The Art of Friendship
by Silverlight Neko
Summary: Satoshi is a lonely masochistic 14 year old boy, who suspects he is slowly going schizo. Come with Satoshi as he goes thorough life dodging rabid fan girls, smiting evil bakers and learns the art of friendship.
1. Prologue

Hey everyone! Silverlight here. This was born out of pure randomness. No it is not a depressy fic and all. It just starts out with Satoshi like that. There are no pairings, there might be, there might not…I don't know. But note to readers, Satoshi, Krad, Dark and Daisuke are all separate entities in this fic. The voice in Satoshi's head…is just…you shall find out later! Grins evilly! BWHAHAHAHA!

Summary, since I suspect that it won't all fit in to the other screen thingy.- Satoshi is a lonely, masochistic 14 year old boy who suspects that he is slowly going sichophrenic. Come with Satoshi as he makes his way through his daily life, dodging rabid fan girls and smitting evil bakers, all while learning the art of making friends.

Disclaimer: Jeez, I don't own DN Angel already! Goes to the corner and cries. But I own the plot! BWHAHAHA! None shall stop me with this evil plot of mine! BWHAHAHAHAHA! >> 

* * *

**The Art of Friendship  
Prologue**

Satoshi sat on his bathroom floor, leaning heavily against the sink counter, gazing in morbid

fascination as crimson blood gushed forth from a jagged cut he had made along his arm. He stared,

fixated, the razor he had cut himself with hanging loosely from his hands. He felt himself getting dizzy,

the room tilting awkwardly to one side, then to the other side. He stared regretfully at the cut. Why

did he have to cut himself all the time? He wasn't entirely certain why. The world wasn't making

sense right now. Satoshi blinked slowly, darkness creeping over his vision. Oh…right…_"Because of_

_ that…"_ He keeled over; the last thing that he saw was the hospital white of his bathroom ceiling.

Satoshi awoke, much later. VERY much later he decided as he stared blankly at his watch, the first

digit of 8 making the most sense to him at that point. He had been awake for sometime already, but

the low blood pressure he was afflicted with didn't exactly provide for speedy wake ups for the boy.

He sighed, a deep, long sigh. Deciding to get up, he grasped the edge of the bathroom counter with

the arm he had cut himself on last night. He watched, slightly perturbed as the arm failed to respond

properly to Satoshi's wishes. It gripped the edge of the counter for half a second before letting itself

go, intense pain shooting up the arm, numbing it instantly, rendering it useless. Satoshi gazed at his

right arm in extreme displeasure. He did not like it when he was not listened to. And his arm was no

exception. When he tried to move his right arm again, pain shot up its length yet again. A pain that

Satoshi was very familiar with now. The blue haired boy sighed heavily in defeat. _"Fine, you win_

_ arm, but I won't go so easy on you next time. It's just…I can't…move you…right… now…"_

The boy blinked; he must truly be going insane from lack of human contact, he was talking to his

LIMBS now. He shook his head, reaching up instead with his left arm to grasp the sink counter to

help him self help. After suffering from an extreme head rush, not helped at all by his extreme loss of

blood, Satoshi decided that his bathroom needed cleaning. And so did he, Satoshi thought glancing at

his blood encrusted body. The boy looked at the light blue tiles that made up his bathroom flooring.

They were encrusted in thick scabs of brownish red material. His blood. His _dried_ up blood to be

more exact. Satoshi sighed. At least the stupid voice in his head had shut itself up today. If today was

even today, and not just yesterday. Or maybe today was tomorrow and the today that he thought

was today was actually yesterday. The blunette blinked, he should stop thinking before he gave

himself a major brain over load. He glanced at his wrist watch, hoping that it would make sense to

him this time around.

TH 9-29

8:46 30pm

Was what it read. Satoshi blinked again. The mocking green digits glared up at him. He'd been out

for nearly a day and a half. The boy had cut himself on the 28th at approximately five o'clock in the

evening. Satoshi sighed again. He was sighing a hell of a lot today. Or this evening, as it technically

was. Oh joy! He'd miss school. Bet no one missed him much. He snorted, _"Time to get this_

_ messed cleaned up…"_

After cleaning his bathroom floor thoroughly with a mop and an entire roll of paper towel, Satoshi

prepared himself for a nice long shower. He had already taken off his shirt last evening, so he

undressed himself entirely and stepped in to the shower. He stared at the knobs before him,

contemplating on whether he wanted a scalding hot shower, or a freezing cold one. After some

thought, he turned on the hot water knob, deciding that would be best for cleansing his wound and

such. Then cold water if he felt like it later on. He yawned; flinching slightly as freezing cold water hit

his bare skin, stinging the cut on his arm. The water warmed up after a couple of minutes while

Satoshi dozed lightly under the feel of the cold water hitting his skin. It was said that cold water was

supposed to be good for waking up one self up in the morning. For Satoshi, all it did was make him

feel sleepier. Probably because he was so used to freezing cold showers that it didn't really hold the

same effect on him anymore like it did on other people. As the water warmed up, so did Satoshi

wake up, slowly. He began to gently clean his wound, a long jagged cut that marred his pale skin on

his right arm. Satoshi had made it so that the cut ran from the inside of his right elbow all the way up

to the outside of his right wrist. Extra large for that stupid voice in his head, who had been extra

annoying yesterday. Wound cleaned and all, Satoshi stepped out of his shower. The wound had

begun to bleed again, probably because the blood encrusting the cut had been acting as a scab,

preventing it from bleeding further. Satoshi grabbed a towel, patting himself dry with only his left arm

and watched as more of his life blood welled out of his arm. He wrapped the towel around his waist

awkwardly. Hey, it was difficult with just one hand. The boy then moved to his room, where all of his

medical supplies were kept. He dug around his room. Upon finding the kit, he dug around it some

more, finding a large roll of extra wide gauze. He then began wrapping his arm up as tightly as

possible. He had become good at one armed things over the past few months, ever since the voice in

his head had made itself present. A couple of minutes and half the roll later and Satoshi was finished

binding his arm up. He didn't bother much with disinfectants; his arm WAS bleeding, all over the

place, so he didn't have much of a choice, and there was no one to help him. He would put

disinfectants on it later. After the bandaging, Satoshi moved to his dresser where he chose a simple

white T-shirt and a pair of grey sweat pants and threw them on. Now that was done. Satoshi sighed

yet again. His apartment was deathly silent, not a sound could be heard with in it except for his own

breathing. Satoshi blinked, feeling very, very, very bored. Why couldn't he have just a couple friends

or something? Then maybe he would have something to do right at that point. He grumbled to

himself. Like that would happen anytime soon. _"Must find something to distract self with."_

Absently mindedly, he got off his bed where he had been sitting and wandered over to his front door.

_"Wonder if there's any mail?"_ He opened the door to find a stack of books laying at his door

step, a hastily scribbled note lying on top of it. Satoshi picked up the stack of books, gazing at the

note.

_"Gomen nasai Hiwatari-san. I rang the door bell for ten minutes, but no one came. Sensei asked me to drop off your homework for you, since I'm the only one who actually knows where you live and you weren't at school today. So here's your homework. Gomen nasai again and hope you start feeling better. We were all worried._

_Niwa Daisuke."_

Satoshi snorted in disbelief. People? Worried about him? When hell freezes over maybe. Niwa

Daisuke…did he know that guy? Satoshi picked up the stack of papers and books along with

whatever mail was there and turned around to go inside. He chucked the pile of books carelessly to

the side, sorting through the mail. _"Junk, junk, more junk. That's for dad, more junk. I simply_

_ don't care. Junk, junk, junk…" _Satoshi threw the mail to the side just as carelessly as he had with

his pile of homework. Niwa Daisuke…right! An image of a red headed klutz popped in to his mind.

The kid with the crush on one of the Harada Twins. Couldn't remember her name properly though.

In fact, Satoshi hardly paid attention to any of the names of his fellow students. Although he knew he

should. _"That just _might _be one of the reasons I don't have _any_ friends."_ Knowing another

person's name came in very useful when getting to know a person. Satoshi shrugged. He had figured

that he was too quiet for his own good. _What?_ He just didn't find much use in gabbing his mouth off

with other people. Speak only when need be, that was his way. And the fact that half his class

annoyed the living day lights out of him anyway didn't help him much in getting friends. He scowled

half the time at any one who tried to talk with him and ignored them the rest. Not that many tried to

talk to him. They first had to get past the aura of ice that he exuded, carefully formed after many

years of living with his adopted father. Satoshi shuddered, _"I don't want to think of that jerk right_

_ now." _Turning his thoughts to other things, he suddenly realized one thing that had been niggling at

him for a while. He flopped on to the couch in the living room, frowning slightly. How _had_ Niwa

Daisuke known where he lived? Satoshi blinked, trying to figure that out. Then it hit him, _school_

_ project_. He had been partnered with the Niwa for a History project in the Industrial Revolution and

how it had affected Japan. They had gone over to Satoshi's place to do the project, Niwa having

said that his folks were much too noisy. They wouldn't have been able to get much done with his

mother popping her head in every five seconds to inquire if they wanted snacks. Satoshi quickly

conceded, the prospect of an over cheerfully woman stuffing both with snacks had slightly scared

him. Needless to say, Niwa had been out of his apartment within the hour of him stepping in. Satoshi

had seen how uncomfortable the smaller boy had been. His apartment _was_ a little bit creepy. Satoshi

himself talked next to nothing and the hospital white bareness of the whole apartment didn't help the

small red heads situation. _What? _ Satoshi simply didn't have the drive to decorate his apartment. He

had been faced with two choices; either torture the Niwa boy and make him stay in the apartment

with Satoshi for five hours while watching the red head squirm in obvious discomfort, _while_ doing

their project. Or Satoshi could just do the whole thing himself and force the Niwa to learn his part of

the presentation. Satoshi had opted for the second choice. One, he had decided that he didn't want

to be sadistic and torture the obviously uncomfortable red head and two; his voice had woken up

and was telling him to kill the Niwa boy. The faster Niwa was out of his apartment, the better. So

Satoshi had told Niwa to do other homework and observed out of the corner of his eye as he

watched the small boy gawk openly at his hellishly fast typing speed. With in one hour, Satoshi had

the whole report finished, something that should have taken the both of them two weeks worth of

research to complete. By the end of the hour, Niwa was still gawking. _"What? I know the_

_ industrial revolution inside and out."_ Satoshi had said, then stuffed the ten paged report in to the

boys hand. He then informed Niwa that he should learn his part. The boy had nodded mouth still

wide open. _"How do you type so fast?"_ Niwa had asked him. Satoshi had shrugged, and then

ushered the red head out of his apartment. Niwa left gladly. They had both gotten a hundred percent

on the report. Niwa gawking disbelievingly at Satoshi as they received their marks, Satoshi shrugging

and then never talking to the boy again. He glanced over at his pile of homework. The boy quirked

his blue eyebrow at it. Curiosity getting the best of him, Satoshi began sifting through the pile of

homework, finding that it was nothing that he hadn't learnt before. He contemplated his homework,

and then decided that he would do it later tonight. He never really needed very much sleep anyways.

The blunette flopped back on to his couch, bored out of his mind. On a whim, he flicked to the TV

on, flicking through the different channels. He stopped to stare in consternation at commercial

featuring dancing mangoes. The mangoes made their way about the screen, singing in rather high

pitched voices, something about a type of fruit snack that everyone should eat. Satoshi's eye

twitched. _"Kill the TV!"_ Satoshi's eye twitched again, the voice was back.

"Shut up" he said. He didn't feel too keen on cutting himself again in order to shut the voice up. He

shut the television off. The dancing mangoes were a bit too much for him anyways. Any more, and he

would have been mentally scarred for life. Satoshi moved to the kitchen, deciding that he wanted to

eat something. He stared morosely at his empty cupboards. Instant ramen. That was all there was. _"I_

_ want good food…"_ But Satoshi felt too lazy to actually move him self out of the house in order to

get any food. So, he opted for shrimp flavor ramen, setting the kettle to boil. _"Kill the kettle!" _ The

voice in side of his head hissed. Satoshi growled softly. He sighed, taking a deep breath, and then

said, very loudly and clearly

"I DO NOT! Repeat, DO NOT want to deal with you right now. Now, be so kind as to REMOVE

yourself from my head and GET lost!" Satoshi waited on a reply. None came. He shrugged; it wasn't

like he was going to miss the voice any time soon. It was constantly trying to get him to kill things.

Although it was quite amusing the things it came up with when ever it plotted to kill his father. Satoshi

glared at the kettle, watching and waiting for it to start whistling, announcing that the water was

boiled. The longer he waited, the deeper his glare got. Ten minutes had passed, and still nothing.

Satoshi frowned. Checking that he hadn't gone stupid and left the kettle unplugged, he confirmed that

he wasn't in fact, going stupid, but that it seemed that his kettle had decided to choose this day to

break down and die. Satoshi glared at the kettle. _"KILL THE KETTLE!"_ His inner voice was back.

"For once, I agree with you." Unplugging the kettle, Satoshi drained it of all its contents, and then

chucked it in to the garbage, glaring the whole entire time. He was too lazy to go out and get himself

food _and_ his kettle had broken down. Satoshi was in a real predicament for food. _"Kill the fridge!"_

"Shut up."

Maybe he should just starve and for once in his life, eat something for breakfast the next morning. _"Kill the TV!"_

"Shut. Up."

The voice was becoming restless. Satoshi took off his glasses, rubbing the bridge of his nose. What

time was it? 9:30 the digits on his watch happily announced to him. Was his watch bi- polar or

something? Forty minutes ago, they had been glaring. Satoshi shook his head, not bothering with the

complexities of understanding his watches moods. Instead, he decided that he should get some

homework done.

And done it was as Satoshi stretched his arms in to the air, wincing at the dull throb of pain he felt

from moving his right arm. He glanced at his watch; the digits read 11:34, announcing the time

without much glee. Satoshi frowned at his watch. Now it was _sad?_ No, his watch wasn't bi-polar; it

just had MAJOR mood swings. Why did his watch even have mood swings? Humans had mood

swings, not pieces of technology. He glanced at his watch again. Was it him, or did his watch just get

sadder? Satoshi stared at his watch in consternation. It huffed. He stared. _"Never mind…"_ On to

other things… He had just gotten six hours worth of school work done in two hours. See how much

of a waste school was for him? He took a third of a time doing what everyone else did in six hours.

He shook his head and yawned tiredly. Guess he should go to sleep. The blood loss had taken all of

his energy out of him. Without a second thought, Satoshi flopped on to his bed, merciful sleep taking

him immediately. Hopefully the voice wouldn't intrude on his dreams tonight.

* * *

There you have it, the first chapter. Weeeeeee! Runs around in circles. Should be doing schoolwork…… Let's just not talk about that… 


	2. Setp1: Find Out Their Name First

The second chapter of the Art of Friendship. Hope you guys like it!

Disclaimer: I unfortunately for my white chocolate macadamia nut cookies, do not own DN Angel. It is unfortunate for these cookies because I will eat them out of despair. But still, if I owned DN Angel, which I'm not saying I do, I would eat those white chocolate macadamia nut cookies, but that would then be out of happiness and joy rather then in grief and despair. Which is happy, because then this author would be very happy!

* * *

Satoshi surfaced from sleep gently, the way a leaf would surface from the bottom of calm pool. 

With much trouble and almost a zero percent chance that it would make it to the surface. In fact, how

had it sunk in the first place? Why would it be going back _up_ when it was already at the bottom of

the pool? Leaves shouldn't be able to surface after sinking. There was just _no_ way that they did that.

And how long would that take? Ages? Centuries even! Satoshi's surfacing from sleep was almost

like that. Highly unlikely that he would wake immediately. Yes, Satoshi liked to wake up early. He

would _like_ to wake up early, but found that slightly problematic, seeing as he would have to devote

half an hour of each morning to just _trying _to wake up. His low blood pressure just annoyed the

heck out of him. Annoyed the living heck out of him. Just killed him. He would like to kill his low

blood pressure, but that meant trying to kill himself, which Satoshi just wasn't too keen on. But what

about what he did in the bathroom? All that slicing and dicing of his arms? Satoshi blinked slowly,

slowly registering the morning light seeping in from under his curtains. Right, what had he been

thinking? He blinked again, blue depths disappearing, and then reappearing. His face scrunched in

distaste. Satoshi utterly despised forgetting things. Hated it with a passion. If the antipathy of life was

death, then the antipathy of Satoshi was forgetfulness. But oooo, that low blood pressure. Just did

things to Satoshi that he hated. Slowly he blinked again, the room was getting clearer. With the speed

of a snail, his thoughts began to focus. Slowly, then faster and faster. When Satoshi could a) glance at

the clock faster then he was blinking, b) register what it was saying, and c) _understand _what it was

saying, he deemed himself sufficiently ready for getting up. He pulled himself out of bed slowly, the

white t-shirt that he had been wearing for bed hanging haphazardly off of his thin frame and his blue

hair sticking at odd angles from his head. Snatching his glasses off of his bed stand, Satoshi stumbled

his way to the bathroom, turning on the tap and began scrubbing the last vestiges of sleep away from

his eyes. He grabbed his toothbrush and began brushing his teeth, glancing at his watch. It cheerfully

announced the time of

FR 9-30  
6:31 45am

"I see you're cheerful today" muttered Satoshi, still not certain what to make of his watches moods.

Or if his watch even _had_ moods, and that he wasn't just imagining things. He finished brushing his

teeth, and made his way to his immaculate bedroom where he selected one of the school uniforms

from his closet and threw it on. He made his way back to the bathroom, and began the five second

process of straightening out his hair. Five seconds later he exited the bathroom, his five minute ritual

of preparing himself for school completed. Satoshi glanced at his watch again.

FR 9-30  
6:36 50am

"_Ooo Satoshi, five seconds off today. I swear that hair will be the death of you!"_

"Shut up."

"_No I won't."_

"Why not?"

"_Because I like annoying you."_

There it was again, the annoying voice that lived inside of Satoshi's head. Except that it had made an

early start today. Usually it didn't wake up until sometime during one of his classes and wouldn't stop

until dinner time. The times when it went right on, right through the night, not letting Satoshi sleep,

were the times that Satoshi went to the extreme and cut himself. The voice had been living in his head

for sometime now, ever since he was twelve Satoshi estimated. It had tortured Satoshi through

countless sleepless nights, invading his dreams and turning them into nightmares. This had been to the

point where Satoshi had been swaying in class with sleep deprivation. The revelation of cutting had

come to Satoshi when he had turned fourteen—which had been about four months ago. He had

gotten fed up with the voice and had finally threatened to end it all. They had had an hour long

argument, the voice telling him that he couldn't and Satoshi telling the voice that he could. In the end,

Satoshi had grabbed the razor and cut and slashed his arms until he had quite literally been clothed in

blood. After the cutting, the voice had fallen silent. Satoshi didn't know why, but it had, and that's

what had counted. So Satoshi resorted to this type of treatment in order to shut the voice up every

now and then. Of course the "treatment" left scars, but it worked well, so Satoshi stuck with it.

Anything to shut the damnable voice up. The blue haired boy moved out over to his study desk,

sweeping all of his books in to his bag and slinging it over his shoulder. He marched out of his

apartment, feeling slightly annoyed that his voice had started up so early in the day. It proceeded with

its usual ranting; informing Satoshi what things he should kill in the near future, regardless of whether

the object was animate or inanimate. That part, Satoshi could deal with. The part he couldn't deal

with was what sometimes came later on. When it didn't come at all, Satoshi could only express the

feeling inside of him as pure joy. Satoshi consciously tried to shield his mind from the voice; a

technique that rarely worked, but was worth a try every now and then. He was rewarded for his

efforts with silence from his usually very talkative voice. Sometimes the voice had laughed at his

efforts to silence it, but today it seemed that the voice was cooperating with Satoshi or had just gone

back to sleep for now. The blue haired boy adjusted the strap of his bag on his shoulder, slinging it

diagonally across his chest from his right shoulder where it came to rest on his left hip. He checked

that he had his keys and also his wallet before locking the apartment door and stepping out in to the

early morning September sunshine. The air was slightly cool-- after all, it was autumn. Multi colored

leaves lay strewn about on the ground as trees began dumping their reach green summer robes on to

the ground in preparation for the cold winter. Satoshi started done the steps of his apartment,

following the gray cement path until he reached the sidewalk. He then paused. Left led to school,

while right led somewhere else. He glanced at his watch. Cheerfully –much to Satoshi's relief, he

couldn't explain why though—it announced the time as

FR 9-30  
6:40 35am

School started at 8:30. He was by no means, going to go to school right away, he didn't want to wait

for an hour and a half for it to start.

"Might as well get my lunch" Satoshi mused, turning right. He strolled leisurely along the path, making

his way to a bakery that he knew very well. After all, he had been buying his lunch there for the last

two and a half years. It was called the "Happiness Bakery," a Chinese bakery that sold—you

guessed it!—Chinese baked goods. The owner had mourned over not getting the name "Golden

Happiness" because the other Chinese bakery down the street had snatched the name up before he

had been able to get it. The baker still complained about it to this day. Satoshi usually just ignored

him.

Fifteen minutes later, Satoshi entered a smallish shop, filled with the tantalizing smells of baking and

baked goods. A little bell connected to the door chimed cheerily as Satoshi opened the front door

and the entered the shop. It was lit brightly, with counters running along the left side of Satoshi and

the entrance. These counters stored and displayed the various goods that the bakery had to offer to

its customers. Further back, a bunch of chairs and tables had been set up for anyone who wanted to

eat their purchase inside of the bakery as opposed to eating it elsewhere. A line of coolers ran on the

wall opposite of the counter, displaying an assortment of drinks customers could purchase to go with

their meals. Satoshi took those familiar surroundings in, in one glance before proceeding directly to

the counter. He stood and waited. Then waited some more. He waited exactly five minutes before a

plump, black haired woman with a sour expression stepped out of a hidden door way, making her

way to the cash register where Satoshi waited. He stared. She stared. He blinked. She stared. Then

he looked away. _"Who is this woman?"_ Usually, it was a scrawny old Chinese man with a yellow

toothed smile who came and served Satoshi. It had been for the last two and a half years. Nothing

had changed that, until now.

"Where's the other guy?" Satoshi had never really found out the name of the other baker.

"Chen?" She looked at Satoshi again. The look saying she didn't want to serve him or see him or talk

to him, but had to because he was a customer, but that she wasn't doing this out of her good will but

only because she had to. Satoshi adjusted his own features so that they mirrored hers almost

perfectly. His look told her that he didn't want to talk to her, see her or smell her (because she really

did smell something awful) and he wasn't doing this out of his own good will but only because he

would only get his lunch through talking to her. He stared at her this way for longer, before briefly

nodding, deciding that "Chen" was the name of the old man who had given him his lunch for the last

two and half years.

"He's sick." She stared at him some more. "May I take your order?" She added on almost as an

after thought. Satoshi stared at her some more, wondering if he stared at her long enough, would she

melt on the spot. Much to Satoshi's disappointment, she remained whole and solid

"I'll have a pork bun." The woman looked at him. He looked back.

"Anything else?" Her question sounded almost like it had been tortured out of her mouth. Her lips

twisted in to something of distaste and displeasure as they moved; almost liked she loathed Satoshi,

even though they had met only just then. He opened his mouth, about to answer her question with her

exact lip movement, when it dawned on him. He was going to have _breakfast_ today! He

remembered his small decision that he had made yesterday, the one that had been forced since he

hadn't been able to eat dinner. The one that involved him actually _eating_ breakfast. Breakfast.

_Breakfast. BREAKFAST!_ Hiwatari Satoshi was having breakfast today! What was this world

coming to? Passer bys fainted, birds fell out of the sky, the icebergs began to melt and a chorus of

angels descended from heaven, singing praises to god knows what. Hiwatari Satoshi was going to

have _breakfast_. The world gasped.

"_AND_" he emphasized the "and" until the women's expression changed from a I- don't- want- to-

serve- you- or- see- you- or- talk- to- you- but- have- to- because- you- are- a customer- but-

I'm- not- doing- this- out- of- my- good- will- but- only- because- I- have- to look a what- the-

fuck? look.

"_AND_ I would like one of those pineapple- coconut buns." The woman blinked at him, then nodded

briefly. She moved to the displays, grabbing a pair of tongs and a small paper bag marked on the

front in red with the bakery's logo. Satoshi waited triumphantly, grinning an almost maniacal grin. He

couldn't help it. He was going to have _breakfast_. It disappeared almost two seconds later, when the

woman turned around, her own strange smirk of triumph plastered onto her face. Satoshi frowned.

_"What evil is this woman up to?" _He did not understand. He was going to have breakfast,

_nothing_ bigger then that could happen today, NOTHING! He looked at her, opting for an

expression of questioning, rather then the maniacal grin that was pulling very hard at his facial

muscles. Her smirk grew.

We don't have any more pork buns." Satoshi froze. The passer bys outside froze. The whole world

froze. The chorus of angels froze. All of time froze. _"WHAT? NO MORE PORK BUNS?"_

"Wh- wha- what?" Satoshi stuttered weakly. "No more pork buns?" What was the world coming

to? "Don't you have more being made?" The damnable woman's smirk grew, almost like she was

reveling in her customer's obvious dismay.

"None at all." She almost cackled. "I forgot to make a fresh batch this morning." She seemed to be

trying her to look apologetic. Satoshi decided that she looked more like she was sneering at him. _"I_

_ know what you are up to, you evil woman! Depriving _me_ of _my_ pork buns!"_ Satoshi growled

inwardly. This woman was going to get it, some how she was going to get it! Taking a calming

breath, while his world crashed to pieces around him, Satoshi looked her full in the eye and said

"I'll take the _other_ type of pork bun then." She stared at him.

"The one with the cheese?"

"_Yeesss_!" Satoshi hissed, half- grinning manically, half- frowning. His face glowed with victory as her

face changed from one of evil triumph to one of defeat and submission. ‎Yes! He had won! Take that

you evil woman! There are other types of pork buns out there in the world you know! Not only that

one! Satoshi schooled his face in to one of pure and utter calm. He watched as she roughly shoved

the cheese pork bun in to the little paper bag and then stabbed the register keys mercilessly.

"195 yen. Please." She held out her hand, staring at Satoshi with a look of pure malice. He stared

back at her, equaling her stare with one of his own. The blunette handed her the money before

snatching the bag and making a quick dash for the door. Outside he paused, cheering silently; he had

defeated the evil baker woman! He began to walk back the way that he had come. Slowly, his hand

reached into the paper bag, dragging out the pineapple- coconut bun that he decided he would have

for his _breakfast_. He brought the bun to his lips, his mouth shaping in to the "O" human mouths made

when about to bite in to something. The whole world froze again, all attention turned to Satoshi as he

made to bite in to the pineapple-coconut bun. As if in slow motion, he bit in to the bun, and began to

chew, very slowly. Passer bys fainted and had heart attacks, the birds fell out of the sky as ready to

serve chicken roast, the icebergs melted then refroze this time with little monkeys encased in their icy

depths and a chorus of angels descended, singing their praises to god knows what before choking

and fainting. Hiwatari Satoshi was _actually having breakfast._ The whole world gasped, and then

fainted. Nothing bigger then that could happen today! NOTHING! It would be all over the front

pages of Azumano's newspapers. Headlines reading "HIWATARI SATOSHI HAD BREAKFAST

TODAY!" Satoshi swallowed. The world went back to normal. An old man in a wheel chair rolled

by, giving Satoshi a dark look of malice. Satoshi did not react, too wrapped up in the ecstasy of

having breakfast for the first time in nine years. He continued to eat and walk.

* * *

The baker woman stared after the blue haired boy in confusion. She watched as he disappeared 

out of view, before sighing. What was wrong with that boy? She had been polite and kind to the boy,

but there he had been, glaring at her, then glaring at her some more and finally breaking out in to the

most maniacal grin ever. Then he had been all nice and polite, and then had switched back to glaring

daggers at her. Finally he had dashed to the door, hugging his purchase like his life depended on it.

She shivered, rubbing her arms for extra warmth. If this was how dealing with customers was, then

she didn't want to do it any more.

"Chen!"

She was going to force her husband to do the customer service from now on. She was scarred,

mentally, for the rest of her life. It was irreparable.

* * *

Satoshi arrived at school approximately half an hour before it actually began. During the half hour 

he had before school, he had sat and thought about what it was like to have friends, what it meant to

have friends and how one would go about making friends. In that following half hour, he had come up

with the following points:

HIWATARI SATOSHI'S GUIDE TO THE ART OF MAKING FRIENDS

Find out their name first.

Make conversation.

Learn similarities between each other.

Learn differences.

Hang out.

(Not needed if avoidable) Conflict/Arguing.

Making up, thereby learning more about each other.

Find out more about each other.

Hang out some more.

Go through the BIGGEST conflict of all.

Make up, thereby learning even more about each other.

If one was able to make it through the previous 11 steps, then you have become fast friends.

Satoshi leant back, observing the piece of paper in front of him. The list seemed logical enough to

him. There was no evidence contrary to what he had written down. He glanced up at the sound of

the classroom doors sliding open. Satoshi was always the first person to be in class room, so he was

able to observe all of his class mates walking in to the classroom. The first one to walk in today was

a boy with spiky brown hair. He had a mischievous look to him and an armband wrapped around his

left arm that read "School Newspaper: Editor." Satoshi blinked, he didn't know who that boy was.

The brown haired boy was deeply engrossed in a piece of paper that he was holding before him.

Satoshi observed him as he walked in to a total of three desks, tripped twice and narrowly avoided

the wall three times, all without looking up once from the piece of paper. It piqued Satoshi's

curiosity. He wondered what could be so interesting that going through five consecutive injuries and

narrowly avoiding the wall thrice didn't warrant any attention. The door slid open again, two girls

walked in, both identical in appearance, though one had longer hair then the other. They appeared to

be arguing. Satoshi had forgotten their names. Something that started with an H and ended with an A.

He'd check it up later. For a while, the four of them were the only ones in the class, Satoshi musing

how he was going to go about making friends, the brown haired boy reading and the girls arguing. At

one point, the brown haired boy had looked up and shouted, "Oi, Shut up!" The girls had responded

in kind, telling him "Shut up yourself Takeshi- kun, it's important what we're talking about!" Satoshi

had zoned out most of their argument, it had had something to do with which side of the room was

theirs and who used whose stuff more often. Nothing important. Ten minutes before the bell, the door

slid open again, revealing a red haired boy. He was panting, and looked slightly flushed. _"Niwa_

_ Daisuke…"_ Satoshi thought, looking at the red head speculatively. Takeshi sprung in to action then,

bonding across one end of the classroom to the other and reached his astonished friend in one leap.

Which was no mean feat, seeing as the classroom was a good twelve meters long from the door to

the wall opposite of the door and Takeshi's desk sat by the furthest wall from the door. Many

speculated that Takeshi should have been in either the high jump or the long jump events of Track

and Field. The boy leaped on to the red haired boy and crowed happily, something about the biggest

news story in all of Azumano's history ever having come in to his hands. Satoshi looked up, startled.

_"Did he find out I had breakfast?"_ The red head had chosen that point when Takeshi was about

to tell him what it was to collapse under the weight of both him and his friend.

"Itte, Takeshi-kun!" Daisuke whined. "Get off of me!" The brown haired boy noggied the other boys

head, laughing.

"Hey, not my fault, you were the one who fell down." He got off friend, dusting himself off and

reached out with a hand to help Daisuke up. The smaller boy took the hand, pulling himself up.

"Well, if you hadn't jumped on top of me, I wouldn't have fallen!" Daisuke glared. Takeshi grinned

evilly.

"Ohayou Daisuke-kun!" One of the twins had spoken. Daisuke face immediately turned red.

"O-ohayou Risa-chan!" Daisuke responded, blushing furiously. He looked down at the floor, clearly

uncomfortable. Satoshi quirked a brow. It seemed that the red head had a thing for one of the twins.

The blue haired boy glanced speculatively at the twins; it was the long haired one who had spoken.

_"So her name's Risa." _The shorter haired twin spoke up then.

"Ohayou Daisuke-kun. Ogenki desu ka?" The red heads blush receded visibly.

"Ohayou Riku-chan. Genki desu. Anata wa?"

"Genki desu!" Satoshi returned to his own world after that. Their conversation had become rather

pointless to listen to. It was not until the first bell had rung did Satoshi look up from the book that he

had been reading. Daisuke was making his way from Takeshi's desk to his own desk, which Satoshi

realized then, was right in front of his own. He glanced at Daisuke before looking back it his own

book.

"Ano…" Satoshi glanced back up, frowning slightly. Who had spoken?

"Ohayou Gozaimasu Hiwatari-san." Satoshi's eyes shot up to Daisuke. That was who had spoken!

He blinked slightly at the red head in surprise. This was the first time that the boy talked to him in a

while. Satoshi glanced back down at his book. Daisuke was still looking at him. The blunette almost

decided to say nothing in response to Daisuke when he remembered his list. _Step1: Find out their_

_ name._ That should be changed to _Step1: Acknowledge their existence _in this case Satoshi took a

deep breath. He suddenly felt himself hanging over a very deep and very black abyss. He looked

back up.

"Ohayou Gozaimasu Niwa-san." Satoshi responded.

* * *

There you guyzors have it! The second chapter of the Art of Friendship! Satoshi may seem a little OOC, but that's because this is what happens inside of his mind. When I switch POV's with other characters, you'll see the Satoshi that we all know and love. frowns I am having some trouble with getting the little voice thing inside of Satoshi's head to work the way I want it to. Something like how Krad is inside of Satoshi's head. But somehow, the way I'm writing it makes it sound it's just a voice that tells him to kill things. That doesn't make for something that Satoshi would cut himself over, so my little author gears are turning and I'm trying to figure something that will work. Anyway, ja matte ne. I will see you guy's next chapter! Love you all and please R&R! 

PS. I'm thinking of having a pairing in here, but I shall elave in you suspense about it because I am evil and jsut that way!


End file.
